Hunter of Thunder
by Elessar King
Summary: A young Rohirrim stable hand goes in search of his father. But will what he finds be what he's expecting? rated PG for mild disturbing images. NOT slash or mary-sue. *COMPLETE!*
1. Chatper 1 The Dream

Hunter of Thunder

Chapter 1 – The Dream

Amiron looked back at the burning village and then told his horse to head for the forest.  A small dark figure sat in front of him.  It was a small boy, only three years of age.  He was brave, he did not cry nor did he quake.  But he did not watch.  He sat still, comforted by the Elf's presence.  A woman's voice was heard from the village as the horse and two riders dissapeared from sight.

"Rolinaë!"

 "Rolinaë!"

Rolinaë and the other men of the Rohirrim village had fallen back, they where over run with orcs and Dunlendings.  The large rider held a sword in one had and a bow in the other.  But he was not fighting anymore.  Not once he heard his name called.  

He lept over dead enemies and killed anything that got in his way.  The other Rohirrim called to him not to go, but they could not stop him.  Then, he saw it.  One of the Dunlendings had his wife, Eislen.  Rolinaë cried out as the wild man killed her.  

Rage surged in Rolinaë's blood and he became almost mad, killing all the creatures that he could find.  But there were still more.  And finally, Rolinaë broke down beside the still form of his wife and wept.  

That is how the orcs found him.  Rolinaë had all but given up then.  They took him captive, but he escaped; something unknown to most people.  Because he was holding onto something; that small boy that rode off with Amiron, the Elf.  That was his son, Éorinaë.  

**8 years later…**

_Darkness…thunder…fear, anger.  _

_A voice called through the mist, "My son."_

_"Father?"___

_"This is the end, my son.  They will take me now.  I love you."_

_"Father?__  Father, no, where are you!?  I will find you!"_

_"Good bye Éorinaë."_

Éorinaë jolted awake, "FATHER!"

"Éor?  What's wrong?" Rusheíl looked up sleeply.

"I must find my father," Éorinaë said, jumping out of bed.  He quickly got dressed and ran outside.  Rusheíl followed, still in his bed cloths.

"Éor!" he shouted, "Éor, you can't.  So many have gone out after Rolinaë and none have found him.  I'm sorry."

Éorinaë looked at his friend.  Determination burned bright in his blue eyes.  

"But Rolinaë was not their father," he said as he entered the stables.  Crysto looked up at the boys as they came in and knickered at his master.  The horse unterstood; he always knew.  

"Éor, you're only a stable boy, what can you do that the Knights can't!?" Rusheíl wasn't giving up on his friend, no matter how stubborn he was.

Éorinaë put the saddle on his horse and picked up his sword, "I can find my father."  He voice was firm, there was no argument.  

The young rider had not laid out any provisions before he jumped up on his silver mount.  "Éor, please," Rusheíl shook his head.

"I'll be back soon," Éorinaë paused, "and with my father!"  He urged the horse forward and his last words echoed in Rusheíl's mind as he rode off, "I promise you!"

Rusheíl started to run after him, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him, "Let him go, my son."  Rusheíl hung his head as Ranthor guided him inside.  Ranthor was a Knight himself, and neither he or Éorinaë had give up hope that Rolinaë lived.

            It froze.  Something cold, something missing.  What?  The wild man moved closer…and closer…and stopped.  It froze again.  Danger rang.  There was a flash of steel in the woods ahead, the whip of dark hair, and the dark blur of movement.  He continued another step forward and then stopped.  He could see his foe standing before him.  A powerfully built man with dark tangled hair and a wild man's homemade blade in one hand.  His beard was long and his face and cloths where dark with dirt and sweat.  The wild man cocked his head to one side, then nodded to the other.  The other came closer.  It was not who he was looking for, or so it seemed.  

The two wild men walked for a moment, then without warning, one of them dropped dead; the blade in the other's hand covered in blood.  He had slit the other man's throat.  He laughed and ran back into the woods.


	2. Chatper 2 Starless Night

Hunter of Thunder

Chapter 2 – Starless Night

It wasn't long before Crysto had galloped across the green plains of Rohan to the edge of the mountains.  He was a fast horse, after all.  Not as fast as Firefoot or Shadowfax, of course, but Crysto could hold his own.  So, the sun was setting when they reached the edge of the mountains.  Éorinaë slowed his horse and looked around.  He wasn't sure where to go from here, the mountains looked unforgiving this time of year, covered in snow.  But something told him, in the back of his mind, that is where he is headed.

It was growing cold.  Éorinaë pulled out his dark green cloak and cast it about his shoulders.  He seemed to grow into the darkness.  There where no stars out, no moon to light the way; but the boy's sensitive eyes could still see well in the dark.  In fact, he found it painful to be outside in the sunlight somedays.  Darkness was much more soothing.  But it was painful in it's own way too.  It reminded him of that night his parents where taken from him.  No, only one.  His father _was alive and he _would_ find him!_

Crysto snorted and tossed his head.  Éorinaë patted the large animal's neck and dismounted.  They would have to spend the night.  Éorinaë busied himself with starting a fire while Crysto grazed quietly on some tree leaves near-by.  With the fire going, Eor got to work making himself dinner.  On the way there, he had caught sight of a rabbit in the plains and knew that he would need something to eat for dinner that night, so he killed it.  Now, he was eating it.  It was rather bland, but that didn't seem to bother the young rider.  He ate in silence, just thinking.  

Suddenly, a noise interrupted his thoughts.  Éorinaë's hand drifted to the sword at his side.  It was a short sword, given to him by Ranthor.  But it served the boy well, being only 11 and not able to wield a normal sword yet.  The sound got closer.  Éorinaë shifted so he could stand quickly and gripped the hilt of his sword hard.  The creature jumped out of the woods, it was an orc.  Éorinaë sprang up, sword drawn, to meet his attacker.

The orc took one look at the young rider and laughed in it's foul voice, "Do you think you can really defeat me boy?"  

Éorinaë narrowed his eyes, "I do, you're confidence is misplaced."

"Then it is _your confidence that is misplaced, horse-master!" the orc charged at him._

Éorinaë blocked the creature's blow easly and ran it through the stomach.  But the boy didn't expect more.  The others seem to appear everywhere and while Éorinaë slew some of them, there were always more.  He yelled in frustration.  

The orcs closed in on him, surrounding him from all sides.  Éorinaë turned sharply, trying to prevent any attack, but it was hopeless.  One of the orcs hit the boy from behind with it's single piece of metal that served as a shield.  Another hit the boy with the hilt of his sword upon his head.  

Éorinaë fell to the ground.  A drop of blood fell down the side of his face leaving a trail of crimson from where the sword hilt had connected moments earlier.  His intense eyes looked up at the orcs.

The lone wild man that had murdered the other, still laughed as he ran back through the woods.  His mad laugh echoed off the trees and mountains.  The whole forest seem to turn dark.  He ran into a cave where several other Dunlendings where waiting and one dark figure laying on the ground in the corner.  His hands and feet were bound so he could not escape.  Since he had tried many times, almost completely getting away once.

He was calm at the moment, simply laying there, unmoving; almost seeming asleep.  But he was not.  He was listening silently, planning his next move.  But that would be sometime off, he was weak now.  Almost too weak to continue.  He had no idea what the Dunlendings wanted with him, since they hadn't killed him.  

He had to get away, somehow.  Darkness and fear was growing again in the world and he had to warn his people before it was too late…before it was too late.  Sleep tugged at the edge of his mind and finally, the man gave into the temporary escape.  

In the distance, thunder rumbled and a horse nayed…and a man stood up a hill, his hair and cloak blowing in the wind.  The Hunter of Thunder had returned.


	3. Chapter 3 The Hunter

Hunter of Thunder

Chapter 3 – The Hunter

The wild men looked up as the thunder got closer.  It was a warning.  They knew that the Hunter would be coming.  One of them ran to the back of the cave and picked up their prisoner.  He had woken at the sound of the thunder aswell.  Hope rose in his heart.  His dark eyes looked around as the wild men carried him out of the cave.  

The prisoner was quite a contrast to the wild Dunlendings.  But any longer out here and he may begin to look like them.  His blonde hair was already turning dark from dirt and grim.  He was determined not to stay that long.  He saw some orcs pass by them, there must be someone else out here and not just the Hunter.  Anyone that passed through these woods knew about the Hunter; and they either feared him or loved and respected him.  In the prisoner's case, he had never met the man, but he had ceretinly heard about it.  And as he thought about it, not many people had met the Hunter.  No one knew his name, he was simply known as the Hunter of Thunder.

The Dunlendings dropped their prisoner on the ground with a thud.  The man grimaced, his side already ached.  The wild men talked among themselves for a moment.  They seemed to be debating about something.  Finally, they turned back to the prisoner and looked at him with their angry eyes.

The prisoner spoke in a hoarse voice, "Why don't you kill me now and finish what you begun so long ago!"  Maybe this would be the end now…

The Hunter ran down the hill, his senses alert.  A dark horse followed after him, but once he entered the woods, the horse waited just outside of the trees.  The Hunter moved through the woods as one that has lived there all of his life.  Perhaps he had.  

No one really knew the Hunter's true identity.  He was a very dark man, to look at him.  But of course, that was mostly because he was only out when it was dark.  So many did not know either who he was or what he really looked like.  And that is what scared them. 

So, the dark Hunter hurdled over a log and seemed to stop in mid air before his feet even hit the ground.  He paused like a mountain lion listening for it's prey.  His head snapped to the right and he ran off again.  

The orcs laughed at the young Rohirrim boy that lay in front of them.  Éorinaë looked utterly disgusted.  He would not be humiliated by these foul creatures, never in his life!  His hand drifted over to his sword, but one of the creature's metal boots came down on his arm.

"Don't you even think about it, horse-master, you're stayin' right here," it growled, showing it's hideous teeth.  

"Let's kill him!" another orc shouted.

"No," said the one with his foot on the boy's arm, appearing to be the leader, "He'll make a good prize.  We will take him with us."

Suddenly, lightning lit up the sky and thunder shook the ground.  The orcs looked around.  "It's a warning!  It'll take too much time if we take the boy, leave him here!" another orc croaked.

"You superstitious fool!" the leader growled, "There is nothing out here that can hurt us, it's only a little storm."

And if on cue, it began to rain…and a dark figure appeared behind the leader, his sword drawn and held before his face.  The rest of the orcs yelled and the leader didn't even get to turn around before he was beheaded.  Only half of the orcs stayed and fought, the rest ran off into the woods.

Éorinaë regained his sword and jumped up, his sword arm a blur.  He back away, during the battle, from the dark figure of the Hunter, back towards Crysto.  The horse had stayed back from the orcs, unnoticed for the most part.

Finally, the rest of the orcs saw that they would meet their demise here and ran off, leaving only the Hunter, Éorinaë and Crysto.  Éorinaë looked at the man, fearing that he would now kill him.  

"Are you going to kill me too," the boy said, but it wasn't a question.

The Hunter made no reply.  He was looking at Crysto.  _Rohirrim_, he thought.  The Hunter nodded to Éorinaë and ran back into the woods, leaving the boy standing there.

After standing there, watching after the Hunter, Éorinaë turned back to Crysto.

"Come, lad, let's go," he said mounting the horse.  

Crysto picked an easy path as he trotted along.  Éorinaë's quick eyes spotted the tracks of wild men.  He followed them carefully.  They finally got closer and Éorinaë jumped off of Crysto and walked quietly to a near by tree and looked out from behind it.  

There where three wild men and one man that had to be their prisoner laying on the ground.  He was of Rohan!  Éorinaë was completely sure, the man had to be.  The boy's heart jumped for joy and he almost ran out, but then he remembered the Dunlendings.  Again, Éorinaë drew his sword silently.  He brushed back his hair, one side stained with blood.  

He gained up his courage and charged out with a yell.  The first Dunlending didn't stand a chance and met the same fate that he had done earlier that day, a cute throat.  The others, unfortunatly, where not as unprepared and had time to pull out their weapons.  Éorinaë met little resistance with the next, but over powered him easily.  Quite a feat for a boy of eleven.  The last wild man was a harder challenge.

This time, it was Éorinaë who was charged at, but he blocked the attack.  The wild man was much taller than Éorinaë and tried to bring his sword, if it could be called that, down on top of him.  Again, Éorinaë blocked it, but he was forced to his knees, the man was so strong.  But the skills of the boy surprised the Dunlending slightly and he lowered his guard.  Éorinaë took his chance and lundged forward with his sword, meeting the wild man's chest.  


	4. Chapter 4 Rain's Gifts

Hunter of Thunder

Chapter 4 – Rain's Gifts

With his last enemy dispatched, Éorinaë ran dropped his sword and ran over to the Dunlendings' prisoner, hope and joy filled his heart.  The man looked up at the boy, "You are Rohirrim?"

"Yes sir," Éorinaë said as he untied the man's hands and feet.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"I am Éorinaë," the boy hesitated, "Are you…my father?"

The man looked up and shook his head, "I have no son."  Éorinaë's heart dropped and his face fell.  "I'm sorry, lad, if that's who you're looking for?"

"That doesn't matter now," Éorinaë said.  As long as anyone had known him, Éorinaë had always put his needs second over the needs of others; and now he helped the man to his feet.  "There are more wild men about; not to mention that other man…"

"The Hunter?  You saw the Hunter?"

"I know not of any Hunter, but a man in a dark cloak saved me from some orcs before I came here."

"The Hunter rarely shows himself to anyone, young Éorinaë," the man nodded, "There must be something about you… but you are right, we should be going."

Éorinaë whistled and Crysto came out from the woods, "You should ride, I can navigate the forest on my own."

The young rider helped the former Dunlendings' prisoner mount the horse.  The man smiled, "Many thanks, Éorinaë.  Perhaps I should tell you my name now.  I am Halin."

So, Éorinaë lead Halin and Crysto through the woods.  They walked quietly for the most part, since there were still many dangers that faced them; and at least one known fact, the Hunter.  But what they did not know, or appeared not to know, is that the Hunter was watching them.  

Éorinaë could feel they where being watched, but he said nothing to Halin.  Crysto, no doubt, sensed the boy's feeling of caution and stepped with care not to be so loud.  The sound of thunder got closer and finally the swirling clouds above them opened up and it rained.  Éorinaë knew that they needed to find cover.  Halin was injured, but the boy did not know how bad.  They still should not be out in the rain.  He pulled Crysto along, faster through the trees.

They came to a clearing and Crysto stopped.  Éorinaë and Halin looked up from beneath their hoods and wet hair.  There standing before them was the Hunter, sitting upon a black horse.

Neither Rider quite knew what to think, nor what this Hunter would do.  Finally, it was the Hunter that spoke.

"What are two Rohirrim doing this far into the woods?" the Hunter's voice was rough but there was a hint of something else.

"I am searching these woods for something –er..lost.  I found Halin, here, in the captivity of three Dunlendings," Éorinaë managed to say.

The Hunter nodded and dismounted his horse, "Halin, then, you are fortunate to be found by such a brave young one."  The Hunter walked towards them, his eyes not visible under his hood; but fixed on Éorinaë.  "You fought against those orcs well, little Rohirrim.  Tell me, what is it that you search?"

Éorinaë stood firm, not afraid by the Hunter's demanding presence, "I am looking for my father, sir."

The Hunter cast back his hood reveilling his dirty blonde hair and beard, and cool blue eyes.  He knelt down in front of Éorinaë, in the rain.

"Éorinaë, you name is," he said.

The boy nodded.

The Hunter's face seemed to soften, "Then you have found what you are searching for."


	5. Chapter 5 Will You Come Back

Hunter of Thunder

Chapter 5 – Will You Come Back

Éorinaë stood there for a moment, consentrating on the face before him.  It was his father.  He had found his father!  No, he hadn't found his father; his father had found him.  Rolinaë stood, his hands on the boy's shoulders, and nodded to Halin.

"Come," Rolinaë said, "I will lead you to a safe place for tonight."

He stridered over to his big, dark bay stallion and mounted swiftly.  The Hunter looked over at his son, who had not moved since, and nodded to him.  

Éorinaë walked hesitently to his father's horse and jumped up.  Rolinaë's large arms caught the boy and placed him in front.  The bay stallion stamped his feet impatiently.

Rolinaë and his son rode into the dark forest, but the stallion was moving slower than normal so that Halin on Crysto could keep up.  The stallion had no saddle nor bridle, much like a mearas, the lords of horses, but this horse was much different.  Rolinae called him Thunder, and a very fitting name for him too.  For when the dark horse would run, his hooves sounded as thunder.  So it was the Hunter _and_ Thunder.

As they rode along, Rolinaë felt Éorinaë lean back against him.  The boy had fallen asleep finally.  It had been sometime since he had slept and there had been two fights that night.  Frankly, all of the wearyness was just catching up to young Éorinaë now.  

The Hunter brought the two other Rohirrim to another cave, but much different than the one Halin had been held captive in.  It was smaller and more enclosed.  Rolinaë jumped down off of Thunder's back and lifted his sleeping son into his arms.  Halin quietly dismounted Crysto and followed them inside.

The cave was suprisingly light.  Rolinaë gentilly layed Éorinaë on the stone floor and then frowned.  He took off his dark cloak and placed it over the young Rider.  Rolinaë looked up at Halin and montioned him over.  As he got closer, Halin was able to see what the Hunter really looked like.  His clothes where ripped, patched and worn.  He almost looked like one of the wild men, but there was still an air of Rohan about him, and it would never be taken away.

Rolinaë started a fire in the corner and Halin sat down next to him.  "Let me take a look at your wounds, my friend," Rolinaë said, "Tell me now, what would you be doing this dar into the woods?"

"The orc and Dunlending attacks are becoming more frequent in the outer villages," Halin stated.

Rolinaë nodded, "Aye, they are advancing destructively indeed.  So? Continue."

"So I had seen these attacks.  They're worse than destructive!  And out people are being murdured, slaughtered!"

"I know they are.  Is this what brought you here or where you captured?" Rolinaë asked without looking up.  He was bandaging a gash on Halin's arm.

"I came because there are rumours of an orc hunter in the woods…" Halin paused.  Rolinaë looked up.

The younger Rohirrim continued, "So I went to find thise Hunter, since he is Rohirric, and maybe he could help us!"

"I can't do that," Rolinaë said, looking away, "I could never go back."

"We need your help! Rohan needs your help!" Halin exclaimed.

Rolinaë looked back at the young knight, "I cannot go back.  And you couldn't possibly understand."

Halin sighed, but he wasn't giving up yet.  "Then if not for your kingdom and home; then for your son," Halin pointed to the sleeping form of the boy.

The older man seemed torn in decision.  He gently brushed a lock of blonde hair away from the boy's face.  "You should get some sleep, we'll be moving again in the morning," Rolinaë said, still watching his son.

Halin sighed and lay down next to the fire and finally drifted off to sleep.

It was still dark when Éorinaë woke up.  He had heard movement in the cave.  But since when did they get to a cave?  I must have fallen asleep, he thought.  He watched his father talking to the horses.  Thunder bowed his head at his master's chest and snorted.  Rolinaë turned around and smiled to see his son awake.  

"Good morning, my son.  We shall get moving in a few minutes," Rolinaë said.  

And a few minutes it was.  Halin had awaken in that time aswell and jumped up on Crysto, once everything was ready to leave.  Éorinaë rode his own horse too, since Rolinaë was riding Thunder.  

They saw no creatures in the dark, damp morning through the forest.  Nothing dared to get in their path, not even the foul creatures in the woods.  Thunder knew the best paths to pick and Crysto followed smartly.  Once they reached the plains, Thunder's gain opened up and his muscles seemed to ripple like water as he ran.  Crysto kept up easly to the barebacked horse and rider.  

Suddenly, Thunder stopped.  Éorinaë slowed his horse next to his fathers and looked up at the man.

"Go ahead my son," Rolinaë said.

"Father, will you not come with me?  Will you come back?" the boy asked.

Rolinaë said nothing, but patted Crysto's neck and the chestnut horse ran on ahead.  The village was already in sight.  Some of the villagers had heard the horse's hooves on the rain covered grass and had come out to see what was coming.  Crysto slowed down to a stop and the villagers surrounded the knight and the stable hand.  

"It's Halin!"  they were shouting, "Halin's returned!"

Halin and Éorinaë dissmounted and heard what the gathered crowd had to say.  The orcs where coming, but then they had pulled back, they said.  Halin did not understand, but Éorinaë did.  He nodded to the knight and looked up at the sky.  There where still clouds looming over head. 

 In his heart, Éorinaë knew that Rolinaë could never come back, that his wife and the boy's mother's death would loom over him just like those clouds.  The boy accepted that, though most didn't.  He also knew of his father's way and that _he_ was the reason the orcs did not attack the villages.  That they feared the Hunter.  The forest was Rolinaë's place, and Éorinaë knew now at least that his father was closer than he ever would be at home.  It was in that moment that the warrior's spirt in the boy flared up, just like his father, never to be extingushed.

Éorinaë and Halin turned around just in time to see the sun coming up over the hill in the break in the clouds of the east.  Rolinaë atop Thunder stood on top of the hill looking out to them.  The bright sun made a sillohette of the Hunter.  Thunder reared up on his hind legs and Rolinaë raised his fist in the air.  Éorinaë returned the motion, then saw his father dissapear into the distance, back to the forest; where he would remain to keep the orcs at bay from harming his beloved Rohan…

**The End**


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